


If It Can Be Broken...

by orphan_account



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/M, Slow Burn, Some Outcomes Change, some matches change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-15 06:03:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10551312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Rose Black is a beautiful woman; perhaps that is what makes her all the more threatening. She had never been a simpering fool nor had she ever been a coward that sniveled behind the skirts and pants of those bigger and stronger than her. Never had she been like the simple-minded women that flaunted and whimpered at the sheer strength of men.It had always been them against the world, glorifying and inspirational in all their strength and power. She had always been the only person he had cared about - the only person he would ever care about in this world or any other. She was his beacon of light in an ocean of darkness, bright and oh-so-beautiful - like stars in the night sky. It was difficult to destroy her - even when using the one she loves most against her.But there is trouble brewing. The Shield has been mauling other WWE Superstars, claiming that there is an injustice which causes them to assess and attack. She has found an enemy within Ambrose, specifically, and she hates him with a burning passion. Perhaps a certain Viper can cool the inferno that is raging inside her.





	

* * *

**Preface**

* * *

**Part I. This World Or Any Other**

* * *

There was something dangerous yet seductive in the way that she walks, the sound of boots scraping against the floor and the tight black jeans that fit snugly to her hips, shaping the dips and curves of her waist and the downward slope of her thighs and legs. Dark red tresses spill past her elegant shoulders and out of her kohl-rimmed emerald-green eyes. Pink blooms in her cheeks, giving her an innocent look to her sharp, refined features. She is a beautiful woman; perhaps that is what makes her all the more threatening.

There is confidence in her upturned scarlet lips that cannot be lost, and where it could be mistaken for arrogance, she had never been so pompous as to assume she was better than everybody else; she was just better than most. She was the seduction behind the danger, and she drew men in like moths to a flame. It was what had drawn him in; that bright fire that so many people lacked, that light, pretty accent that fell so beautifully from her lips, and the sparkle that shimmered in her innocent, evergreen eyes.

There's a story behind the chain collar that hung from her neck; the constant tugging of it during matches, the bare of her teeth when she caught people staring at her throat. They thought she was a dog, a bitch - but she was anything but.

Rosemarie Black was many things, but she had never been a simpering fool nor had she ever been a coward that sniveled behind the skirts and pants of those bigger and stronger than her. Never had she been like the simple-minded women that flaunted and whimpered at the sheer strength of men.

Despite her impeccably amiable nature, she had her demons - the ones that whispered in ancient tongues that only she could understand. It was in her glacial green eyes when someone interfered in her match, the curl of her lip away from sharp canines, the terrifying, wolfish grin that stretched her mouth...

_"We are forever damned, brought from the brink of death to fight for those who have wronged us. And since we are damned, our souls are no more. All that is left is a cruel apparition of our past failures."_

Her words had been snarled, a deliberate twist of her lips showing scarlet teeth. A beast had prowled right behind hard emerald eyes, waiting to be unleashed with an unbridled fury as the chain round her neck rattled when she wrenched her head to the side with a feral growl. Danger had been apparent in every coiled muscle of her body; the sheer prowess entwined in every fiber of her being and the fortified fortress that was her mind was what made her truly the best of her generation.

It had always been them against the world, glorifying and inspirational in all their strength and power. She had always been the only person he had cared about - the only person he would ever care about in this world or any other. She was his beacon of light in an ocean of darkness, bright and oh-so-beautiful - like stars in the night sky, forever his guiding light. It was difficult to destroy her - even when using the one she loves most against her. It was supposed to make her vulnerable; but all it did was make her a wild card.

* * *

  **Part II. Commodities**

* * *

Rose Black is a rare commodity in and of herself, arguably the best female Superstar the WWE has ever had and easily one of the most beautiful. She had a fire - no, _an inferno -_ that beat to the rhythm of her heart inside her veins. She was not so easily intimidated - a seasoned veteran who had fought the likes of the legendary Undertaker and Brock _fucking_ Lesnar - and _won,_ using her sheer _wit,_ rather than the physical strength that she, unlike the rest of the men in the locker room, _lacked._

So, it didn't really come as a surprise when she single-handedly handcuffed all three of them to the ring posts after a positively brutal match between her, Sheamus and Orton - he and the rest of the Shield too exhausted to fight back against the entourage of punishment that Orton, herself and that  _damned Irishman_  had dolled out.

_She taps his cheek condescendingly, a taunting smirk crossing her face as she finished locking the handcuffs that bound him to the ring post. Emerald eyes glitter harshly in the light - so different from the usual soft green he had been used to seeing. Blood splatters her lower lip - courtesy of a well-placed punch from Roman, who is shackled to the other ring post diagonal from them with another pair of handcuffs, raven hair falling like black rain in his lowered eyes and slack face. His arms are restrained, pulled hard behind his back. Dean can see the muscles in Seth's shoulders straining against his skin, who lays unconscious in the corner of the ring, tied similarly with his arms wrapped around the third post._

_"Perhaps, in a different life, things could have been different between us, love," she drawls, drumming a finger against his temple. "But for now, as long as I hate you and you hate me, we will always be enemies, Ambrose."_

They have a mutual hatred for each other, but they respect one another enough to know how dangerous the other is. _She is persistent, though,_ Ambrose thinks as he rubs his sore wrists. _Entirely too persistent for her own good. And she refuses to stay the hell down._ Which, he supposed, is a good thing, because a lot of bad shit happened to a lot of good people. To be honest, he doesn't really expect her to do anything other than fight back. It's in her blood.

She'd been trained by some of the most hardcore wrestlers in wrestling _history._ Her _friend -_ Dean spats the word in his mind in disgust - Randy Orton, who was a third-generation wrestler and a master of manipulation, had trained alongside her for over a decade. The man never ceased to amaze him; every other kid that came through the doors of the WWE, who thought they could _tame the fuckin' Viper_ had left feeling utterly hopeless and absolutely fuckin' _worthless._ But Black - Black had known him longer than any other person in the entire world, knew him like the back of her hand, and Orton wouldn't dare hurt her - it wasn't in him.

But Dean knew a street rat when he saw one. The woman had been trained for nearly two years with Zandig, Damage and Gage as the youngest CZW Champion the world had ever seen. She was harder than all the other girls her age - tougher than most women who were older than her. She could withstand an almost ridiculously high amount of punishment and could return it a thousand-fold.

He knew that if he underestimated her, she'd be the one to snap. She'd be the one to totally and irrevocably _break_ him.

* * *

**Part III. Machiavellian**

* * *

He would have long since recruited her into the Shield, had it not been for her undying loyalty to the Viper and the undeniable animosity between her and Ambrose. Their first encounter wasn't exactly...good.

_Roman shivers at the way she looks at Dean now, rage flickering in those hard, calculating eyes. It was in that moment that he realized that his brother had bitten off more than he could chew - that Dean could be the one thing that could threaten to unravel everything she had accomplished and more, everything she had worked so hard to build. The darkness within her - if tempted enough - could go against all of her morals, all of her virtues and principles._

_He hates the way Dean is watching her, as if she is some wild animal. He is too cautious, too afraid - and it makes Roman begin to think that perhaps the lunatic is not ready for this confrontation. The cruel smirk is gone from the street dog's face, and rightly so. She is not to be trifled with, not to be underestimated and not held with the most absolute reverence that she deserves - especially with those eyes, those hateful eyes that seem to burn holes into their heads, faces, souls. She is watching, just as she always has - that cold, Machiavellian look etched into the emerald orbs that burn with a righteous fury._

_"We are the Shield," Dean says, attempting to intimidate her with his size as he rises to his full height; her lips twist to reveal razor-edged teeth that were bared in a smirk. She toys with his necklace, before tugging him forward sharply by the chain until their faces are mere centimeters away from each other. Seth tenses beside him._

_"I don't give a flying shit," she growls, something animalistic darkening her gaze. "I think that you need to get your balls out of Rollins' ass and Reigns' out of your throat if you want me to even consider believing in the Shield, Ambrose."_

_Dean splutters, his face contorting in anger and his brother's hand curls into a fist._

_"You make one wrong move, I'm gonna put my foot so far up your ass that Reigns' balls will pop outta your mouth. After that, I'll punch your teeth down your throat and make you choke on 'em."_

Something told him that she wouldn't hesitate to do just that. He'd watched some of her older matches, back when she was in Evolution as a bodyguard of Orton, Triple H, Batista and Flair. She had been ruthless then, at only nineteen years old, and she was still just as ruthless now. Attacking Orton may not have been the wisest decision of the Shield. Roman is man enough to admit that. But still...

 _Believe in_ _the Shield._

* * *

**Part IV. Exact Same Way**

* * *

Seth lays down on the crates inside their makeshift locker room, wincing as his back meets the harsh wood beneath him. Black had really done a number on them tonight. _T_ _he crack of the Kendo stick snapping across his back-_

"I'm starting to think that maybe this thing we're doin' with Black isn't such a good idea," Seth grits out as he struggles to remain awake. "She whacked me with a stick ten _fuckin'_ times."

"You think that's bad, huh, Seth?"  Ambrose snarls, yanking on his vest angrily. "I counted each and every fuckin' one o' 'em to twenty-two. She fuckin' hates me. But ain't no way - ain't _no fuckin' way_ I'm giving up on riling her."

"Rile her?"  Roman snaps, "She desecrated the shit outta us. 'Less you got some sick, twisted thing going on that makes pain seem all rainbows and unicorns to you, you better shut the hell up right now. It's your fault we're even in this mess to begin with."

"We did this together. Attacking that slimy bastard was a _group_ decision, 'less you forgot, asshole," Dean counters roughly. "Maybe I did go a little far today, but she took it farther than it needed to go."

Seth growls low in his throat, chucking his vest at his brother in frustration, his eyebrows furrowed in irritation. "You taunted her about being an orphan, you sick fuck! Anybody in their right mind would have retaliated the way she did. Her only _fuckin'_ outlet is _violence,_ Dean, or did you forget that you're the exact same way?"

Ambrose whirls on him, rage evident in his ice blue eyes. His voice is low and threatening when he speaks. "Don't you _ever_ compare me to that woman again, Seth, you got me? We are _nothing_ alike."

Seth scoffs, but says no more. _Nothing alike, his ass._

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Randy never married or had kids, which means Kim, Samantha and Alanna do not exist. Hopefully, there will be kids in the future for these two! :)


End file.
